


Running From Death

by zoologygorl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi, On the Run
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 09:16:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19315189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoologygorl/pseuds/zoologygorl
Summary: A girl who loses everything because of her father is whisked away into sadness, life, and - of course - Magic.Soon she falls for two red heads but can she trust all her friends with her secret? After all, everyone hates him. He is the reason there is a Boy Who Lived.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you enjoy! Updates to come.

A woman's warm laugh filled the air, which was warm from the large fireplace. In front of it were a woman and a young girl curled together on a couch reading books and sharing a thick blanket.

Suddenly, a doorbell went off and Jezabelle inexplicably went cold. She and her mother shared a confused look and her mother went to the door. Jezabelle remained on the couch, twisting her body for a better look at the visitor, and overwhelming dread came over her as her mother's hand rested on the door handle a moment before twisting her wrist and opening the door.

"Mom, wait." Jezabelle began, but her mother had already attempted to slam the door shut, having had a glimpse of the stranger.

"Jezabelle, run." she hissed, eyes wide and fearful.

"Mom? What's happening?" Jezabelle's voice wavered.

"Jezabelle, _go!_ " Her mother threw her wand at the girl and Jezabelle ran, taking two steps at a time, racing upstairs so that she might grab the telephone that was in the second floor hallway. She heard a scream and faltered for a moment, turning back but it was too late. A thump of a body falling resonated through the house and Jezabelle gasped, horrified.

The attacker suddenly came into view and she felt sick as she recognized him. Her father- whos face she only knew because of a lost photo she found in her mother's study. She hid the photo from her mother, knowing it would only cause harm to bring _him_ up. Jezabelle never really understood what had happened but knew one thing- her father was bad. Her mother never brought him up and when Jezabelle would ask what he had been like a darkness would come over her face and would only say that he had been a good man until he succumbed to his inner greed and evil.

Jezabelle turned and fled up the staircase to her room, shutting the door behind and whispering one of the few incantations she knew, "Colloportus!" The door sealed itself and tears of fear ran down Jezabelle's face as she slowly backed away, blindly grabbing her enchanted backpack, throwing loose change in along with her stuffed bear.

"Come on out, girl. I know you're in there." the smooth voice spoke softly, as if amused.

Jezabelle whimpered and threw open her window but her door was blasted off it's hinges moments before she could leap. Innocent blue eyes met dark, cold ones- the eyes of her father Tom Riddle, Voldemort.

Suddenly she found herself on the edge of the woods just outside her home, apparating there due to her fear manifesting in wandless magic.

Jezabelle stumbled into the underbrush and looked back at her house to find it in flames. The dark figure disapperated from her bedroom window and a rush of cold went through the girl. She shivered and let out a wail of grief, of fear. She turned and raced into the wood, into the darkness, running from death.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - there is a mid-chapter time skip that I hope is marked appropriately. 
> 
> Thanks!

The young girl's heart pounded as her legs carried her petite frame through the woods. Hours past and weariness tugged at her consiousness. Soon, she slipped into a dark and dreamless sleep.

Jezabelle woke the next morning with a thundering headache and hungry stomach. The girl suddenly realized that she didn't know how far the nearest town was, and with a sinking heart pulled out her mother's wand, trying to remember the few spells her dead mother had taught her. Dead mother. Suddenly, tears sprung to her eyes and she put away the wand.

'You've brought too many bad memories.' she thought.

Besides, using the object felt wrong and made her nauseous. After wiped away the tears that had somehow fallen from red eyes. She headed away from her past, and away from the only home she had ever known. 

Little did Jezabelle know... He was still after her.

\--  
\--

"Ow...ow...ow..."

Jezabelle let out a frustrated grunt while her eyes threw daggers at her knotted hair. Today was Shopping Day, meaning she couldn't look like her nice, homeless self. And no, she was not shopping for toys or useless things, but food.

'Food..'

Feasts of chicken and turkey and bowls and bowls of soup, seemingly endless strings of noodles...

The cool autumn breeze snapped the girl from her day dreams and right on cue a growl escaped from the depths of her stomach. Jezabelle frowned and look over the change she had.

"Not much there, huh?" she muttered aloud to herself.

Giving up on the quest for nice hair, the girl threw her tangled mess into a sloppy bun with an old rubber band and began to walk towards a small grocery store. Four cans of soup, three bottles of water, a loaf of bread, and two apples later, she was broke once again. After stowing everything in her backpack, she fell into a light sleep under a tree in the park.

The next morning Jezabelle arrived at the flower shop. She smiled as the aromas seemed to soothe time and cleanse her heart. A warm voice met the child's ears, "Good morning."

Jezabelle grinned sweetly and responded, "And you."

energetically, she skipped to the back and took up her chair, beginning the day of cutting and sorting flowers.

Around noon, a soft hand touched her shoulder and Sarah Roseliy, the florist let me know it was lunch time. Jezabelle pulled out the coup can 'her parents packed for her'. Afterwards, (leaving half of the soup untouched) Jezabelle collected some coins and headed back to the woods.

Sweat dripped off the girl's forehead, pouring onto the soft, murky grass below. Shaky breaths and frightened whimpers filled the air. Inside her head, a dark storm was playing.

"Jesssssssabelle."

"No, no, please, no!"

In the grip of Voldemort was her mother. A sick grin lay upon his face, if one could call it that. Suddenly, green lightning shot everywhere, her mother's screams scorched her and Jezabelle was sure the burns would be etched in her skull forever. Slowly, the body fell and disappered into the dark, smokey background. He turned towards his daughter and opened his arms as if asking for a hug. Terrified, the girl stepped back. With what could only be described as anger, Voldemort raised his wand, "Crucio!"

Jezabelle screamed bloody murder as she woke up in a cold sweat and quietly cried herself back into a dark, lonely sleep.

The morning air sent a cool breeze across Jezabelle's face. The cricket's song slowly faded and the dew rose to the meet the burning sun. It was at this time that the sleeping girl woke. Gently, long eyelashes fluttered and green eyes met the world. Shakey breathes filled the still air. Jezabelle sat up with a haunted look in her eye, the dream, no, nightmare, fresh in her mind.

'I've been here too long, what if he is still looking for me? Of he is. He wouldn't just give up.'

With regret the girl gathered her things and marched out of town, not giving a second glance.


End file.
